


Mouthy

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Series: The Beast of New York [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bestiality, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake Science, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Male Slash, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pointless, Predator/Prey, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Shyness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8744953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: Graves is a werewolf turned for the first time & Newt has never encountered one so closely...Too closely...





	

**Author's Note:**

> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE.  
> decidedly, i'm going to add small ficlets (oneshots) that'll detail Newts relationship with Pericival...(it sounds like a bad idea already-)

Auror Graves had snapped, he had no idea, no clue as to how he had allowed his werewolf side to dictate his investigation.

Being of Irish ancestry and having his blood watered down through the ages until there was but a faint memory of his many times great grandfather Gearárd Cathal, he found himself straying from the telltale trail of an Ashwinder, not so much an emergency as it was a nuisance.

The winding pattern of soot and cinder debris disappeared in the direction of a factory, sure to have been shut down for the night, yet gas fires still burned within, which attracted the Ashwinder – he could almost taste before his mind caught up with his imagination in terms of the untimely distraction at hand:

Sharp teeth, fur, musk – Newton knew he was dealing with a werewolf, and he should have ran when he first encountered the beast roaming an area of demolished buildings, yet, he was so painfully _curious_ , but also forgot the accidental indegestion of female Hippocampus estrogen – his upper body wound into a ball, expecting a bludgeoning and yet was met with hairy arms tearing off every shred of clothing, he was at first confused of the werewolf's behavior and deduced that it was the benefit of 'easier digestion'.

> Werewolves are lonely creatures, unfit to make packs as the average wolf does, it instead roams and kills indiscriminately, prone to fierce and random acts of hostility either to the environment or organisms within reach. Werewolves are unable to communicate, much less think logically, yet they are intelligent hunters and ingenious trackers – immune to most mind-altering spells and binding charms, werewolves rely on all five senses plus one: instinct.
> 
> Humans should never approach a werewolf unarmed of silver or a wand.

From Newton's belly-down position upon the rubble, he could not reach his wand, he cursed himself quietly, “Dammit!”

> As with all creatures magical and non-magical, one should practice minimal movement, little to no sounds, extreme caution and be within close reach of their portkey.

“I can help-!” Newton's whispery voice and shuddered pronunciation was almost as interesting as his tongue upon Newton's tailbone – his gaze traveled along the pale freckled indentation of Newton's spine, his neck, to his bewildered eyes half-hidden beneath his red curls – Newton looked as if he were cowering beneath a Norwegian Ridgeback and trying to soothe the wild beast, “T-this d-delay couldn't be-be-be any less i-i-!”

To Graves, the words were but a jumble of sounds, urgent syllables holding no meaning nor an intellectual hold on his feral mindset, they were the pleading cries of prey the moment which the animal knows that it is suffering pain and fear...

“-Ideal!” Newton gasped, he watched as the long tongue lapped between his cheeks, merely teasing him with the rough wet surface – he cringed slightly as the werewolf continued to watch him and lick within his body at the same time, the thick saliva dripping down his thighs and gathering at his testicles, he helplessly whimpered, “You-”

This animal in particular seemed not only welcoming, but Susceptible to his ministrations, Graves scooped Newton's thighs from beneath and held his prey close, just enough that he could taste the seasoned animal's obvious biological desire, the male animal's interest leaked from it's reproductive organ, the twitching length stood from between his furry forearms, eliciting the muffled high-pitched cries of delight – his tongue dove inward, parting the sopped opening which permeated a musky sweetness akin to a female in heat.

The scent appealed to his werewolf blood which rushed beneath his skin, pooling at the base of his cock, Graves subconsciously felt his hips cant forward in the lifelong learned rhythm that brought both life and pleasure – the animal appeared ever-increasingly more enthralling the longer he stared, the more he tasted, the more the little animal pleaded within his clutches.

Newton squirmed, his body alit with the rough-languid sensations running along his nerves and jarring his linear thoughts of: 'Roll, duck, Expelliarmus. Roll, duck, Expelliarmus-'

Newton mewled against his fists beneath his head, his thighs lay spread and wrapped around the beast lapping dutifully at his nether orifice, he squeezed himself down in order to discourage the beast taking liberties with his body, the werewolf only rumbled a growl within him, causing the long tongue to vibrate as it entered little by little – he whimpered pitifully as the copious saliva slid along the underside of his penis and dripped audibly upon the rubble beneath his body just hovering over the floor, held firmly within the werewolf's grasp, “Oh, bugger!”

The claws dig into the skin of his thighs, the electric aura pulsing within his torso suddenly takes on a physical phenomena, Newton feels himself falling, the werewolf's sharp teeth a breath's width short of biting his tailbone – his body constricted against the beast, his legs wrapping around the furry head, his arms scrabbling at the rubble as he cried out.

Years of frustration, years of failure and minor successes poured out in Newton's one scream – Graves, having heard Newton's satisfied shout bordering near animalistic, let loose torrents of his own making – Newton felt the heavy stickiness pelt his abdomen, covering his lithe body in hot liquid, his neck and chin splashed with the cum, his limbs shook from over exertion, his mind slowly recalling the virtue of modesty, Newton almost forgot his fear just before he heard a deep growl coming from the werewolf he was still nestled atop of.

The werewolf's arms took on a more human form: the bristly hair giving way to smooth skin and the moist snout becoming a prominent nose, the sharp teeth lastly forming themselves into a more blunt and constricting human shape – the tongue remained nearly the same inhuman length and texture – Newton grasped for words in the puddle that was once his brain, “Eh-! Em-! Er-!”

Graves cocked an eyebrow, clearly finding himself in a position he knew well whilst still in his human form, he mumbled incoherently, catching Newton's attention:

“Please, Mister Graves-” Newton shuddered as Graves' tongue awoke his bodily interest once more – he slapped his hands over his flushed face and murmured quietly, “-don't talk with your mouth full.”

**Author's Note:**

> Absent of wit or plot....sorry


End file.
